


Her Dirty Secret

by Jaxon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, F/M, HP AU, Mild Sexual Content, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 17:52:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10791687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaxon/pseuds/Jaxon
Summary: Tonks wants Remus, so Severus wants Tonks - and Severus always gets what he wants....but is Tonks still pining after Remus?  And how does Hermione fit into the picture?





	Her Dirty Secret

**Author's Note:**

> From a Tumblr prompt, which can be found at the end.

* * *

  
He couldn’t tell you why she was interested in him.  

Some days, he wasn’t even convinced she was.  But he could tell you why he was interested in her.  Lupin.  It was petty, and it was childish, and it was spiteful – but that suited Severus just fine.

The wolf had sniffed around her for a long time, and then retreated as soon as she made her intentions clear.  “I’m too old,” he’d said.  “Too poor. Too dangerous.”  

And then he’d gone. Coward.

Severus’ smirk couldn’t have been wider.  

“I’m his age,” he said, smoothly, taking a seat in the cavernous kitchen.  “And I grew up as poor as dirt.”

“Your point being?” Tonks’ eyes were red-rimmed, and the mug of tea in her hands was cold.  

He vanished the mug, and summoned two glasses.  He poured a liberal measure of firewhisky into each, and raised his.  “To bravery,” he said, taking a healthy swig, and pouring another measure.

“You think you’re brave?”

“I have the scars.” He didn’t drop his gaze.  “And if you’re looking for someone dangerous, witch…” He let the words hang in the air, and he rolled up his sleeves, his Dark Mark staining his ivory skin.  

Whatever Lupin thought he was running away from, Severus was happy to revel in it – for as long as she’d let him.  She never spoke his name when she came, but her hair would flash through the colours of the rainbow.  He could watch her do that all night.

He’d never amount to more than her dirty secret.  He’d never be a boyfriend, or a partner, or a husband.  He would never be more than a fumble in the hallway, a fully clothed fuck behind the bookshelves in the library.  He’d never get to whisper sweet nothings into her ear, or make promises of a life ahead.

She didn’t want that. Least, not from him.

“You have a talent,” he gasped, the first time she changed form in the midst of sex.  “You should use it more often.”

“Severus Snape, greasy bat of the dungeons, and kinky bastard to boot.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said, scowling, buttoning his trousers.  He paused, before donning his robes.  “Think about it.”

Later, he would wonder if he pulled her into his darkness, or whether she dragged him into her light. Weeks elapsed, and quick fumbles became lingering kisses, whilst muttered dirty talk replaced silence. Eventually, she acquiesced to his request, and he rewarded her with enthusiasm.  

His nostrils flared. “It’s a stupid word.”

“It’s supposed to be.”

“A passion killer.”

“It’s one word.  Think about it.”  She laughed at his petulance.   “It’s to keep you safe.”

“I can look after myself.”

“I could become anyone,” she warned.  “Anyone. You’d never know.  Cousin Bellatrix.”

He snorted.  “Now that would be a passion killer.”  

“You’ve never wondered?” Tonks looked surprised.  “Cissy, perhaps?”

He eyed her levelly. “You really think Lucius would allow Narcissa to prostrate herself naked before me, to lure me into…I don’t know what.” He gave her a nasty smirk.  “I don’t know how the crazy Black brain works.”

She fucked him until he begged for forgiveness, and submitted to her suggestion. “Dunderhead,” he laughed, panting, as he lay on the bed.  “I’ll never be able to give my first lesson speech again.” Together, he shagged his way through the Death Eaters and their women, and Tonks watched his face as he did so. He still didn’t know if this was a reflection of his darkness, or whether the bright young thing was making a mockery of everything he’d once believed in.  

He almost didn’t care.

The war came and went. People lived, and people died, and Tonks and Severus waxed and waned, pushing and pulling like magnets – pressed tightly together, then repulsed and repelled.  The truth tumbled out, and they emerged from the wreckage, hand-in-hand.

Nobody was more surprised than he.

She may have indulged his whims, but she never said his name.  Lupin’s long shadow cast darkly over their burgeoning relationship.  He shook Severus’ hand, and congratulated Nymphadora, in his usual quiet, measured way.  Severus saw the way she looked at him, and that night, he was merciless when he took his love.  He refused to look into her eyes, too afraid that he’d find the wolf there.

They’d argued about the celebratory ball.  He’d griped but stayed for the first half, scowling his way through the meet-and-greet. His unlikely saviour was Potter, who’d Apparated him to Grimmauld Place, and then returned to the party, intending to appeal to Tonks on Severus’ behalf.  He’d made his way through a third of a bottle of Ogden’s Old by the time she appeared.  

“What are you doing here?”

His head snapped up, and confusion covered his face.  “Are you..?”

“Dunderhead.”

It had been years since they’d played this game, but he hadn’t forgotten the rules.  His lips quirked, and he took another sip of the amber liquor.  “Done all the Death Eaters, and now we’re onto the Light?  Thank fuck you didn’t choose Dumbledore.”  He looked her up and down, and nodded.  “Seems a reasonable choice given tonight’s festivities.”  He waved his hand to the book covered shelves. “Are you keeping to a theme?”

“Just how drunk are you?”

“Enough to do this,” he said, beckoning her towards him and placing his glass on the floor.  With little encouragement, she sat in his lap, and ran her fingers through his hair.  “You’d better distract me from the demon drink,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her neck, and deftly unbuttoning her blouse.  She leant back, exposing her unblemished skin to him and moaned.  The sound sent a bolt through his spine.

He had her over and over, her passion matching his own, spurring him on to greater heights.  He’d never been adept at apologies, the words didn’t form easily – but he could show her what he couldn’t say.  He held her shuddering body against him, desperate to see her hair rotate through the rainbow, but she refused to break appearance.  He carried her upstairs to the bed they’d once shared during those dark days of war, and with his lips pressed to hers, they made love.

“I think I love you,” she whispered in his ear, and he was so startled, he pulled away.  Her hands clamped around his neck, holding him fast.

“Me?  Not him?”

“You, Severus,” she said, kissing him deeply.

He didn’t look in her eyes to see if the wolf was there.  Now that she’d said the words, he didn’t need to.

“I shouldn’t have said it,” she murmured, dropping light kisses across his jaw.  “It only complicates things.”

“No,” he said, rolling her over, and nestling his naked body against her own.  “Tell me again.”

“I love you.”

“Severus,” he prompted, his voice hoarse.

She smiled, her eyes flashing with amusement.  “I love you, Severus.”

“Again.”

“Severus, I love you.”

They’d been sleeping together for years, but he took her that night as if he’d never tasted her touch.

She was gone in the morning, and his head pounded in the light.  The room smelled stale, of sweat and sex, and he cracked open the window before showering.  Then, without a word to Potter, he Apparated away – back to work, back to his routine.

He bought her flowers, and ordered takeaway.  She was bemused.  “Is this an apology?”  

“For what?”

“For last night.”

A frown flickered across his forehead.  “You regret it?”

“I regret you not being there the whole evening,” she said, lacing her fingers in his.  “And scowling your way through the first half.”

“But you don’t regret what you said?” he pushed, earnestly.  

“No.”  This time, the frown covered her brow.  “It’s important to be honest with each other,” she said, but before she could say more, he swept her into his arms and she melted into his kiss.  

She never transformed for him again, but it didn’t stop him from proposing.  A few months ago, he’d have been surprised that she accepted – now, he was confident in his actions, certain of the truth.  She never said it again.  He didn’t need her to.

If he was confused by their change in their relationship, he didn’t let it show.  This was how things were, he thought – how adults behaved. Not every relationship was filled with passion every day, or whispered words in the night.  There was no need for big declarations, or statements of fact. She was here, with him, and that was enough.

They gathered together, dressed in their finest.  They held hands, and spoke their vows.  He gave her a smile as she looked at those assembled – so many of them she’d imitated, so many of them he’d defiled.  It was their private joke.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione.” Potter’s voice was low, and he only just heard it over the Granger girl’s sobbing.  “I thought he was with Tonks out of convenience.  I thought, if you told him-”

“I did.  I told him I loved him.”

And then, his heart stood still.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was: I know you write gen fic but do you write ship fic? If you do could you please write a sad Snape/Tonks fic or a sad Snape/Hermione fic please?
> 
> ...well, why not have both?


End file.
